


The Gilmore Paladins - "They shoot Paladins, don't they?"

by Chilly Super Punk (kelamorrison)



Category: Gilmore Girls, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Allurance vs Klance, Beginning of relationship Keith/Lance, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), End of relationship Lance/Allura, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith is Jess, Lance and Lotor and son and father and it works, Lance is Rory, Lotor is Lorelai and it works, Lotor is opposite Shiro it's a crackship but trust me it works, Lotor isn't evil just eccentric, M/M, Pre-relationship Hunk/Romelle, Pre-relationship Lotor and Shiro, Shiro is Luke, You can have never watched Gilmore Girls and still appreciate the story, You definitely need to have watched Voltron though, klance angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 17:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 16,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16665316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelamorrison/pseuds/Chilly%20Super%20Punk
Summary: Determined to win the Starship Hollow's 24-hour dance marathon and steal the trophy from Slav Gleason, Lotor Gilmore enlists his son Lance to be his dance partner. Lance has trouble focusing on the competition with Keith Mariano, nephew of diner owner Shiro Danes, watching from the sidelines. Meanwhile his girlfriend Allura doesn't trust that Lance's feelings towards Keith are purely antagonistic. Top Garrison student Pidge Geller gets distracted from her studies by a blast from her past and Hunk Kim struggles to suss out his relationship with his band's guitar player, Romelle. Will Lotor dethrone Slav as dance champion? Will the event raise the funds Town Select-King Alfor Doose needs to finally start construction on those Robot Lions he's always going on about? Will *anyone's* love life get on the right track? In the wacky town of Starship Hollow, anything's possible.This story is based on the Girlmore Girls season 3 episode "They Shoot Gilmores, Don't They?" Some lines are lifted directly from the episode.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you've never seen Gilmore Girls, you should still be able to enjoy this. If you've never seen VLD, you may be out of luck.

It was fall in the sleepy town of Starship Hollow. The town square was decorated with pumpkins and bales of hay and hanging above the local high school was a giant banner announcing the annual 24-hour dance marathon.

"What about her? She looks like she can shake a leg," said Lotor as he stared out of window of Shiro's Diner.

"The one pushing the stroller or the lady with the limp?" asked Shiro, standing behind Lotor's chair and looking out the diner window into the street.

"The one with the limp."

"Are you saying that because she literally has a shaky leg?"

"She's got a style. That'll make her stand out to the judges."

"She's got a disability."

"Hypocrite!" cried Lotor, looking at Shiro's prosthetic arm.

"I just meant the point of the 24 hour dance marathon is to dance for 24 hours straight. Standing out doesn't matter. Staying standing does."

"Well, she's already pushing through an injury..." began Lotor. He looked up at Shiro who just shook his head. "She's a bit short anyway. I want someone that fits better with my height. Oh! How tall is she?" asked Lotor, pointing at another passerby.

"MR. Coulter is about six eleven."

Lotor rolled his eyes. "You humans and your obsession with gender."

"Not this human. I'm gay."

"See!" snapped Lotor. "There you go putting a label on something that's nothing more than a preference. Gender is an illusion."

"Spoken like an alien pansexual," said Shiro with a groan.

"There. Another label. This must be where my son gets his attitude from." Lotor sighed, his thoughts drifting to his son, Lance. Lance continued to insist that he was straight despite the fact that he'd found himself drawn to Shiro's nephew, the brooding self-proclaimed bad boy Keith. Drawn to him so much so that Lance had kissed Keith at Ezor and Zethrid's wedding last summer. Something he continued to hide from his girlfriend Allura. Lotor adored Allura, she was the best kind of partner for Lance, but he didn't want to see her hurt or used. Of course now Lance was insisting he was 100% dedicated to Allura and almost seemed antagonist to Keith (especially since the little hooligan started dating Rolo.)

"I'm sure you'll find someone willing to dance with you," said Shiro, breaking into Lotor's thoughts.

"But it can't just be anyone," whined Lotor. "I need someone who can win! Someone with stamina! Four year in a row I've come this close to winning." Lotor held up his fingers just millimeters apart. "Last year I swear to the Life Givers I had it!"

"I know the story," deadpanned Shiro.

"It was hour twenty-three..."

"I know the story."

"I'm dancing with Henry "Hoho" Macklefy the Third..."

"How many people heard me say I know the story?" All the other customers in the diner raised their hands.

"And Hoho's fading so I'm trying to buck him up saying, 'c'mon Hoho!' 'Stay with me, Hoho!' and then all of a sudden he starts yelling, 'Quit calling me Hoho! It's making me hungry!'"

Shiro points out the window, "Oh look! There's Tiny Tim!"

"Then out of nowhere, Slav comes dancing by with a Sustenance by Sal to-go bag held high in the air and of course Hoho lunges for the food, drops my hand, and that was it. That's it. Slav wins. Then Slav rubs in my face by telling me I only had a 2.4% chance of winning in this reality anyway. I'm going to get that Hoho someday..."

"I'll help you."

Lotor snapped his head towards Shiro. "I wanna win."

"I know you do."

"I need a partner," oozed Lotor, fluttering his eyelashes at Shiro.

"You'll get one. Keep looking."

Lotor continued to gaze adoringly at Shiro so Shiro grabbed Lotor's neck and turned his head back towards the street.

"Out there."

"But, but, but -," stuttered Lotor.

"Food goo, right? Coming right up." Shiro walked away from Lotor's table just as the diner door opened and King Alfor came strolling in.

Alfor greeted the diner cheerfully. "Breathe it in deep, subjects. Smells like fall."

"Get out," moaned Shiro, not in the mood today.

"Why?" asked Alfor, clearly hurt.

"Just a code I live by," explained Shiro as he went around to refill cup customers' coffee cups.

"Oh," replied Alfor with a good-natured chuckle. "Listen, I'd like to run something by you."

"I'm busy, Alfor."

"That's King Alfor and I think you'll like this one, Shiro. You know the upcoming dance marathon?"

"I'm not dancing."

"That's not what I was asking. I'm thinking you could provide us with your best talent."

"Which is?"

"Coffee."

"Coffee is my talent?"

"Your best one. I'm thinking you could set up a coffee stand at the dance marathon. I mean these dancers need to stay up twenty-four hours and nothing says staying awake like coffee."

"Sure, I'll serve coffee."

"Excellent"

"For one-hundred gak a cup."

"Shiro, this is a charity event!"

"What? So I'm supposed to give hundreds of people free coffee so you can raise money to build those Robot Lions you're always going on about?"

"This isn't for the Lions," scoffed Alfor. "We already raised enough money to buy the Lions. The Show of Arms Ice Show put us over the top last month."

"Then what do you have left to raise money for?"

"A giant tarp."

"A giant tarp? What could you possibly need a giant tarp for?"

"To cover the Robot Lions."

Shiro stopped bussing tables long enough to give Alfor a frustrated look.

"Think about it, Shiro, we're going into the rain and snow seasons. If we begin construction on those Lions and we're not covering them up during the bad weather, they're going to rust."

"I'm not giving out free coffee for a tarp."

Alfor paused, considering this. "How about fifty gak per cup?"

"Fine," sighed Shiro.

"Excellent. You know I like you Shiro, that's why I'm going to give you my lead Lion, the Black one!"

"I don't want to be a Lion pilot."

"Not a pilot, a paladin."

Shiro mouthed the word 'paladin' and shook his head.

"You're going to make a great leader. And you'll get to form the head."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"When the Lions form Voltron, you'll form the head."

"You lost me, Alfor."

"King Alfor and I went over this at the last town meeting. The Lions are going to combine to form the giant fighting robot, Voltron."

"How does that work?"

"I'll build it to work," chuckled Alfor.

"Yeah, but how do Lions stacked together make the shape of a giant... never mind. I'll believe it when I see it."

"And you will lead them."

Shiro shook his head. "Choose someone else." Shiro looked over to see his nephew come out of the kitchen with an order up. "How about Keith?"

"Keith?" repeated Alfor as if the name had a bad taste in his mouth. "Keith is not leadership material."

"Sure he is."

"Whatever you want me to lead," said Keith, "I'm not doing it," before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"That boy hasn't accomplished a thing in his life."

"Exactly. He's pure potential. He's smarter than any of those kids at the Garrison school." This was the private school Lotor's son Lance went to.

"He couldn't even get into the Garrison school."

"He could if he tried," countered Shiro.

"Well, I'll believe it when I see it."

"If you want me to lead your robot lion paladin giant robot thingy then I want Keith on the team too."

"Shiro, no."

"That's my condition."

Alfor sighed, relenting. "I guess I could make space if I didn't put my daughter on the team and focused on her kingdom ruling instead. Maybe I could give him the Red one."

"Great. He'll be thrilled," Shiro waxed sarcastically. There was no way those Lions ever got built.

"And I will see you and your coffee at the dance marathon," sing-songed Alfor as he headed out the door.

"Where's Alfor going?" asked Lotor, jumping to attention. "I wonder who he's dancing with."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor and Lance attend friday night dinner at the Gilmore estate

Honerva Gilmore was enjoying the company of her son and grandson during their weekly Friday night dinner.

"Where's grandpa tonight?" asked Lance, forgetting to swallow before asking the question.

Honerva was all too used to her grandson failing to display manners in the proper setting, part of the problem with Lotor choosing to raise him in mixed alien and human company. Either that or feeding him at that greasy diner every other meal...

"Zarkon's off conquering the Lechorus system this week," answered Honerva.

"Mom, I thought we agreed no conquering talk at the dinner table," protested Lotor.

"He asked a direct question. Am I supposed to lie about where your father is?"

"You don't have to lie, just phrase it differently. Say he's visiting the Lechorus system."

"So I should gaslight you?"

"Why not? You're good at it. You had my entire childhood to practice."

Honerva sighed, one of her tension headaches coming on.

"It was a joke, mom," added Lotor, his voice lightening.

"I think we need a change of subject. How is the Earth fowl?"

"It's just chicken, grandma," said Lance, stuffing another bite in his mouth.

"The Earth fowl is delicious, mom. Really, it's great."

"Thank you, Lotor," said Honerva, surprised by the sincere compliment.

"It's like super fowl. I bet it could fly. Have you tried to tossing it out the window?"

Honerva set down her fork and looked at Lotor. "Okay, what's going on?"

"What? I'm enjoying the Earth fowl."

"Chicken," reminded Lance.

"No one likes Earth fowl that much."

"Chicken."

"I'm in a good mood," said Lotor. "Am I not allowed to be in a good mood? Is that banned in this house? It's like the Galra medaling ceremony all over again."

"Medaling ceremony?" asked Lance.

"When I was in my early-hundreds the Galra were awarding medals to the most promising up and coming soldiers. I didn't think I was going to get one, but then I was informed I would be. I was in a really good mood at dinner that night, but mother got annoyed and made me leave the table and go to my room."

"He was making all the tubers on his plate talk and giving them different voices."

"I was putting on a show, but mother never respected the arts."

"Lotor," groaned Honerva.

"Okay, okay, okay. It'll come out soon enough. Today, ladies and gentlemen, I found a dance partner."

"You did?" gasped Lance, excitedly.

"A good one."

"What are you talking about, a dance partner?" asked Honerva. "A dance partner for what?"

"Our town is having a dance marathon this weekend," explained Lotor.

"It lasts twenty-four hours and the last couple left standing gets a trophy," grinned Lance.

"A big trophy."

"Well, that sounds very nice," said Honerva, feeling it was best to humor her son. He could've been next in line to rule the Galra Empire, but instead he's going to dance for a full quintant.

"All the proceeds go to charity," said Lance, sensing his grandmother losing interest.

"Which is great - but did I mention the trophy?" added Lotor.

"I believe you did," agreed Lance. "But it's worth stressing."

"'Cause it's big."

"That's what she said."

"Or he said," countered Lotor.

"Charitable events are wonderful things to take part in," said Honerva, deciding to be selectively deaf. "There's nothing more rewarding than devoting yourself to making someone else's life better."

"And whose life isn't better with a truly gigantic trophy around?"

"So who'd you get to dance with you?" asked Lance. "Is she pretty? Is she single? Asking for a friend obviously..."

"Stanley Appleman."

"Stanley is a boy's name."

"Son, what am I always saying about gender?"

Lance sighed. "That it's an illusion... Fine. Who is Stanley Appleman?"

"Oh, he's brand new in town. He works over at the hardware store, and the best part is, he used to be part of the touring company. . .of Riverdance.

"Score!"

"What's a Riverdance?" asked Honerva.

"Human thing," answered Lance.

"Ah."

"I'm completely jazzed," cheered Lotor. "How 'bout you, Mr. Root Vegetable?" Lotor held up a bite-sized potato on his fork and then replied in a baby voice, "I'm completely jazzed, too!"

Honerva sighed loudly.

"That's not even the weirdest thing I've seen him make talk," said Lance with a smile.

Lotor's phone rang.

"What is that?" asked Honerva annoyed.

"Not me," said Lance, defensively. "Mine plays Bootylicious."

"I think that's me," said Lotor, cringing.

"Lotor, we talked about this," warned Honerva as Lotor stood up. "When you come to dinner, you turn your devices off."

"I know it's just I left Axca alone at the Warship Inn and she's dealing with Sentry inventory and I told her to call if there were any problems..." rambled Lotor as he backed away from the table.

"Is that true?" Honerva directed this question at Lance.

"Yeah, I'm going to let the talking potato field this one."

"I thought so."

Lotor answered his phone. "Hello? ... What? ... Oh, no no, no no, don't tell me that... Well, did you tell her how big the trophy is, because I am really not exaggerating here... How did your wife get a picture of me? Stanley, that is crazy! I don't wanna sleep with you. ..Did you tell her I don't wanna sleep with you?... Well, put her on the phone. I'll tell her I don't wanna sleep with you... Well, somebody has to tell her I don't wanna sleep with you... Why are you insulted all of a sudden? ... Stanley? ..."

"Well, that's just great!" groaned Lotor as he slumped back to the table.

"What happened?" asked Lance.

"Stanley dropped me."

"That bastard," snapped Lance.

"Language," warned Honerva. "Why did he drop you?"

"Because Mister Coran showed his wife a picture of me and she thought I looked like Angelina Jolie which makes her Jennifer Anniston and Stanley Brad Pitt."

"That's crazy," gasped Lance.

"Especially if you've seen Stanley. He's no Brad Pitt."

"At least she thinks you look like Angelina Jolie," said Honerva.

"I have no partner," sighed Lotor.

"You will find another," said Lance, encouragingly.

"Angelina never had trouble finding a partner," agreed Honerva.

"There's someone out there that'll help you beat Slav," Lance assured Lotor. "In this reality even."

"I guess."

"Would you like to make my root vegetables talk?" asked Honerva.

"No thanks."

"Here. Have more Earth fowl," said Honerva, offering the plate.

"It's called chicken," said Lance.

"Not this fowl," said Honerva.

"It tastes like chicken."

"The maid said it was another Earth bird... I wanna say parrot?"

"What?!" cried Lance, dropping his fork.

"What's wrong?" asked Honerva.

"Parrots can talk! Humans don't eat the animals that can talk!"

"I didn't know Earth had talking animals," said Honerva, innocently.

"Maybe we just have parrots, but still. Polly wanna stay alive!" Lance stood up. "I need to go induce vomiting."

"Use the guest bath!" called Honerva as Lance jogged away.

"It's not actually parrot, is it?" whispered Lotor.

Honerva shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Polly tastes good," said Lotor, taking another piece.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Galaxy Garrison prep school Pidge Geller gets a visit from someone from her past.

Beside his locker at the Galaxy Garrison Lance tried to focus on what Pidge was saying instead of being distracted by Nyma and Matt making out with two other cadets right beside him.

"We need to talk about Saturday," said Pidge, collecting her books from her locker.

"What about Saturday?" asked Lance, having trouble focusing with the sounds of spit being exchanged so close to him.

Pidge closed her locker door and said, "I'm booking the simulator all day so we can practice before our exam."

"That's a bit extreme, don't you think? I don't need any more piloting practice. My first year of flight school they called me The Taylor because of how I thread the needle. Lance held up his right hand in the 'okay' gesture and inserted his left index finger through it. Then he blushed, realizing what gesture he was making.

Pidge's expression remained dead serious. "I've never actually seen you successfully thread the needle, but I have see you break the wings off the ship four times, nosedive into the ground because you were distracted scratching your nose, and total the ship half a second into take-off which I still don't understand how was possible. You shouldn't have even had enough momentum to incur that kind of damage. We're practicing on Saturday. Time!"

With that Nyma and Matt both separated from their respective partners. "Bye!" called Nyma to the boy she'd been kissing as she fell in step behind Pidge and Lance.

"What'd we miss?" asked Matt, following Nyma.

"We're practicing in the simulator on Saturday before our exam next week."

"Thanks for checking with us first," groaned Matt.

"But we don't really need to be there, right?" asked Nyma. "I mean it's just Lance that needs the practice."

"Hey!" snapped Lance, though to be fair his actual nickname is first year had been 'the King of Pilot Error.'

"We need to practice as a unit," stressed Pidge. "We need to be working as a team if we're going to ace this exam."

"I'd settle for a pass," said Nyma, being honest.

"We only just passed the mid-term," complained Pidge.

"And that was okay," said Matt. "Let's do that again."

"Wrong. We're acing the final."

"But realistically it'd be fine if we fell somewhere between a pass and an ace."

"We're practicing on Saturday!" snapped Pidge.

"Okay, we heard you," said Nyma, turning to head towards her locker with Matt.

Lance continued to follow Pidge as she stepped outside. Pidge began ranting to herself. "Why are we practicing on Saturday, Pidge? What's so special about the final exam, Pidge? Why does my head feel so light and yet not float away, Pidge?"

Pidge froze, seeing something up ahead.

"What?" asked, Lance, pausing too. He followed Pidge's gaze across the Garrison courtyard and spotted what had made Pidge freeze up. It was Robro, their long lost, reprogrammed Galra Sentry friend.

"What's he doing here?" asked Pidge.

"Maybe he's here to see you," said Lance, noticing Robro's gaze that was locked on Pidge.

"But he hasn't called me once. I haven't seen or heard from him since we shot him into space riding on the robeast coffin."

"Maybe he wants to explain why."

"He was supposed to go away and never come back. I already wrote his name in my revenge book."

"Pidge, he knows we're standing here talking about him."

"But what does he want?"

"Go ask him," encouraged Lance.

Pidge stuck her nose up high and marched over to Robro. "What do you want?" she asked, curtly.

"I found myself fatigued of exploring the cosmos," he answered, "I wished to see you again."

"But you never called."

"I know."

"You lost my number?"

"I have memorized your number."

"You didn't want to use my number?"

"I wished to be an explorer, to travel through space, the final frontier. It was my dream. The last thing I needed was a distraction."

"I totally understand," said Pidge, hiding her disappointment. "This school year is very important for me. I'm aiming to make the high honour, despite having a less than stellar simulator crew and the last thing I need is a distraction from that so good move. You saved us both from being distracted. Best of luck to you." Pidge held out her hand to give Robro a final handshake goodbye. His steely cold hand closed around her tiny warm one, but he did not shake, not did he let go.

"Pidge...," he began.

"I need my hand back," she warned.

"If I were to let go, how fast would your human legs carry you away?"

"3.2 ticks."

"My calculations concur. Greetings, Paladude," said Robro, speaking over Pidge's shoulder.

"Yo Robro!" Lance greeted back. "How's space exploring?"

"Semi-satisfactory."

"Jokes over," warned Pidge. "Let go."

"No."

"Yes."

"Pidge."

"Look, you don't have to be polite. Sure, I was your programmer and I made you the amazing prankster that you are. I put that sense of wonder into your circuitry, but you don't owe me anything. You don't need to come visit me or see me to be polite. And you certainly never have to have fun with me again."

"Because pulling pranks with you would be a distraction."

"Yes, I'm a distraction," grumbled Pidge. "We've established that. Is time looping or do you have trouble finding your way to a point?"

"However, not pulling pranks with you has become impossible."

"What?" gasped Pidge.

"I nearly flew into a white star because I was so distracted thinking about you. Would you like me to release this hand now?"

"I've got another," said Pidge, weakly.

"I have considered this and you are a distraction I am meant to have. Are you busy as of this moment?"

"Well -," began Pidge.

"She's free!" Lance called from the sidelines. "We're done."

"Excellent. Let us go find some capsuled ovums and launch them with a trajectory that would allow them to burst upon impact against Headmaster Iverson's land vehicle."

"What?" asked Lance.

"I think he wants... TO EGG IVERSON'S CAR!" cried Pidge with excitement.

"You crazy kids have fun," said Lance with a wave.

"Later Paladude," said Robro, grabbing Pidge's books from her hands and walking off.

"He took my books," said Pidge, helplessly.

"Go get them back," encouraged Lance.

Pidge scurried after Robro while Lance shook his head and left to catch his bus.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk tries to work up the nerve to talk to Romelle over the phone. Lotor has a special favour to ask of his son.

Lance sat cuddled up next to Allura on the couch, chewing on the pizza Hunk had baked for them. Hunk, himself paced back and forth behind them, Lance's house phone pressed firmly to his ear.

"Well?" asked Lance.

"Still ringing," said Hunk then a second later he smiled and hung up the phone quickly. "She's home."

"How'd she sound?"

"Homey."

"Nice."

"I know this is a stupid question," said Allura, "But why can't you just talk to her?"

"Because yesterday she called to say that they were still looking for a rehearsal space and she'd call when she knew more so now I have to wait until she calls to talk about the band and until then I call her and hang up. Pathetic. I know."

"Not pathetic," Lance disagreed. "I used to call and hang up on Allura."

"You did?" asked Allura, surprised.

"I remember that," said Hunk.

"When did you hang up on me?"

"When we first met."

"You should have just said something."

"I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because you would've known that I was calling and therefore that I liked you."

"Lance, you used to hit on my constantly. I knew that you liked me."

"I hit on every girl constantly, but little did you know that you were special and I like liked you."

"Yes, but I like liked you too," protested Allura.

"Really?" questioned Lance. "When we first met?"

"Well... maybe not immediately. You kind of snuck up on me."

"And I couldn't have snuck up on you if I wasn't being sneaky with the phone calls."

"Maybe I would've come around sooner if you'd just said something."

"Allura, please. This is a boy thing. You'll never understand it."

"Okay, fine. Tell me when I'm supposed to pay attention again," said Allura, grabbing another slice of this delicious pizza dish and doing her best to zone out while eating.

"I'm going to love her forever," cried Hunk, "and she's never going to know."

"She would if you coughed," muttered Allura.

"Allura," warned Lance.

"Sorry."

"At least she's home and not out with a boy," said Hunk.

"Unless she's home with a boy," muttered Allura.

"Allura!" cried Lance.

"I'm just sitting here, eating this pizza dish."

"It's just called pizza."

"You think she was home with a boy?" asked Hunk.

"No, no, I don't."

"I'm gonna call again."

"Good idea," agreed Lance, "and this time pay attention to the background noise."

"Oh, cool pizza dish," said Lotor, swooshing his way into the house.

Lance shushed his dad and whispered, "He's calling Romelle to see if he can hear a boy in the background."

"I vote he actually says something," whispered Allura.

"You're a girl and you know nothing about this," whispered Lotor.

Hunk hung up the phone.

"Well, what'd you hear?" asked Lance.

"Uptown Funk."

"Dancey, but not date-like."

"You think?"

"Definitely."

"What if she met a boy who's a major Bruno Mars fan?" asked Allura.

"What?" gasped Hunk.

Lance looked at Allure, wide-eyed. "Why are you causing trouble?"

"Lance, can I speak with you in the kitchen?" asked Lotor.

"Sure," he said, hopping up then, thinking better of it, he pointed a finger at Allura and said, "Be good."

Allura rolled her eyes, but nodded. As Lance and Lotor walked out, Hunk dropped down on the couch beside her, still cradling the phone.

"Oh, go ahead," said Allura.

Hunk grinned and began dialing Romelle's number.

"But you should know. You are stalking her."

Hunk froze mid-dial. "I'm not stalking her. I'm just keeping tabs on her whereabouts and making sure no other boys come near her and oh no you're right – I'm stalking her!" Hunk threw the phone away in disgust.

Lance sat opposite his dad at the kitchen table. "So what's on your mind?"

"I think I figured out who can be my dance partner for the marathon."

"Great. Who?"

Lotor smiled brightly.

"Bye!" cried Lance, getting up to make a quick retreat.

"Come on!" begged Lotor.

 

"Forget it!"

"Just hear me out. First of all, you love me."

"Not in this moment I don't," said Lance, slumping back into his seat.

"You know how much this contest means to me. You'd never fall asleep or go chasing after a Sal's to-go bag."

"Dad..."

"We'll get all dressed up. It'll be fun. And you're light so you're easy to hold up if you get tired."

"Dad..."

"Plus we've got the whole father/son thing going for us. The crowd will eat that up."

"I cannot dance with you."

"Why not? You've been saying for years you couldn't wait until you were sixteen and could participate."

"Yeah, but I only wanted to do that so I could show off my dance moves to the ladies, but now I already have a lady that I don't need to impress. Plus it's Allura's first time attending. We were gonna go and watch and hang out. She's totally looking forward to it. I told her about how Klaizap gets in a fight with his date in the first fifteen minutes and storms off the floor. I told her about Alfor getting punch-drunk at hour fifteen and telling stories about how the robot lions he's building are going to transform into a giant robot, however that works..."

"Lance, please..."

"And ooh, I told her about how when Slav wins, he likes to take his victory lap around the floor to the theme from Rocky. I was gonna show her all those things, and I was gonna show them to her sitting down."

"She can still come, and she can still see all those things, except if you dance, maybe that victory lap will be you and me instead of Slav."

Relenting Lance said, "I'll tell you what. I'm supposed to be at the Garrison this Saturday practicing in the simulator with Pidge."

"But I thought you could already thread the needle."

"It's not so much threading as it is crashing. Repeatedly. Anyway, I'll ask Pidge if we can move our practice to after school Monday and if she says yes then I will dance with you."

"Oh, I love you!" gasped Lotor.

"But if we are doing this, we are doing this right," continued Lance. "Full razzle dazzle. I want final costume approval. And I'm going to braid your hair. And I'm going to wear eyeliner."

"Pageantry, thy name is Gilmore," cooed Lotor.

"And we need to train. From now on, we don't have walk from room to room. We salsa room to room." Lance got up and demonstrated this by salsa dancing his way backwards towards the living room. "Get those hips loose!"

"Hello, big fancy trophy!" cheered Lotor, popping up to follow Lance.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gets the scoop on Pidge's date.

Lance was attempting to stay awake during his lab teacher's lecture when Pidge walked into class, late.

"Pidge Geller, hello," said the teacher, interrupting his instructions on mineral sample handling in zero gravity.

"Sorry I'm late, professor," said Pidge.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes, I overslept."

"You're kidding," commented the teacher.

"It won't happen again."

"Well, good. Okay, everyone. Let's get to work."

Lance had already forgotten the lab instructions. Science wasn't the reason he'd wanted so badly to attend the Garrison. "It's astronaut school, not rocket science school," he'd moan and Pidge would give him that 'you can't be serious' stare of hers. Luckily, as it happened, Pidge was also his lab partner so he was acing this class.

Remember his promise to his father Lance said, "Hey Pidge, there's something I need to ask you."

Pidge had already begun setting up the lab equipment, despite having missed the directions. For her, science was like breathing. She had to fight not to do it. "Okay, shoot."

"There's this big event that's happening in my town."

"Pig race?"

"Dance marathon."

"I was close. It's on Saturday, and it's a twenty-four hour thing and my dad really wants to win, and his partner bailed on him and, long story short, I was wondering if there was anyway we could move this Saturday's simulator practice to next Monday after school."

"Sure," answered Pidge with all the casualness of someone who hadn't practically popped a blood vessel in her eye while yelling about the importance of practicing on Saturday.

Nyma and Matt's heads immediately popped up from the microscopes they'd been looking into. "What did she just say?" asked Nyma.

"I don't know. What did you say?" asked Matt.

"I said yes."

"She said yes."

"She said yes," echoed Nyma. She turned around and looked at the boy directly behind her. "Are you free on Saturday?"

"Uh, no," said the guy.

Nyma turned to look at his lab partner. "What about you? Are you free? C'mon, speak!"

"Nyma!" called Matt from across the room where he'd sprinted to as soon as Pidge had said yes. "I have two over here!" Nyma practically launched herself over a table and she ran to join them.

"You've got this wrong," said Pidge, looking down at the few instructions Lance had bothered to scribble before she'd arrived.

"You had a good time yesterday," commented Lance.

"What was yesterday?" asked Pidge innocently, fixing Lance's notes for him.

"Yesterday was the day you were all freaked out about our simulator exam and today is the day you are not."

"Lance, just because I postponed a practice does not mean –"

"You can't stop smiling," said Lance.

"I can too," said Pidge, attempting to stop, but only managing to suck in her lips.

"Tell me," pressed Lance, not expecting Pidge to dish.

However, she really must've been excited to tell someone because instead of insisting Lance start working on today's lab, she said, "Well, we egged Iverson's car..."

"I figured that much out. I saw Iverson hosing it down in the parking lot this morning."

"... And he told me how much he'd enjoyed our day pulling pranks together and that when he was in space, he thought about me the whole time. For a human, he finds me fascinating."

"Wow. He likes you."

"I reprogrammed him."

"But not to like you."

"That would've been unethical. I don't know how the liking me part happened."

"You're a great person," said Lance.

"But that's just the thing. I'm a person. He's a Galra sentry, can this really work?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Romeo. Your kingdoms aren't exactly at war."

"No, I mean, it's not like it's romantic. God, I wouldn't even know what romantic feels like, but I just want to spend time with him. Commit some misdemeanours with him."

"Then do that."

"But what's in it for him?"

"Your awesome company."

"Lance, I'm not exactly well liked. People aren't lining up to spend time with me."

"I beg to differ, but maybe what humans fail to see in you is exactly what a sentry is drawn to. Robro's special."

"Or he's one of those AI's plotting to kill humans and I'm first on his list."

"Right. It's either one or the other."

"Can you do me a favour?" asked Pidge with a sigh.

"Of course."

"Can you not tell Nyma or Matt about any of this?"

"About you and Robro?"

"Yes."

"But they're your best friend and your brother."

"In theory, but one word about this and they'd start singing the words to Love Machine and I just can't take that, okay?"

"Not a word until you say it's okay," promised Lance.

"Thank you."

"And Pidge," said Lance pushing past the annoyed look Pidge gave him for not dropping this. "I'm totally happy for you."

"Prove it by actually doing your half share of the lab."

And to be fair to Lance he did try to do his half, it's just Pidge kept pushing him back saying, "No, not like that."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Lotor arrive at the dance marathon. Ezor asks Lotor for relationship advice.

Lotor propped up Lance as they walked along the dark Starship Hollow streets.

"I have to say, for a couple of modern boys, we have time warped with the best of them."

"Mmm," was all the response Lance could muster.

"How you doing there, champ?" asked Lotor, giving his son's shoulder a squeeze.

"Early," mumbled Lance, his eyes still closed from sleep.

"Yes, it's a tad early."

"No sun."

"Well, she's not up yet."

"I can't even open my eyes."

"That's okay, there's nothing to see. Slav's in a Speedo, Alfor's in a kilt, Sal's in assless chaps."

"Ah!" cried Lance, his eyes popping open. "Why would you say that? I'm never closing my eyes again. That's seared into my brain."

Lance went to rub his eyes, but Lotor cried, "Don't! Your eyeliner!"

"When did I put on eyeliner?" asked Lance, having forgotten his original plan for his look.

"I put it on while you were sleeping," said Lotor. "I also glued on your moustache."

"What?" cried Lance, touching the hair glued to his upper-lip.

"Can't be Freddie Mercury without a moustache," Lotor justified.

"What else did you do to me while I was asleep?" whined Lance.

"I made a supersonic man out of you!"

"What does that mean?" asked Lance, freaked out.

"Oh honey," sighed Lotor.

Lance looked down at his acid washed jeans and white tank top. "Did you dress me?"

Lotor shook his head. "You did that yourself. How tired are you?"

"Tired enough to hate you and your sneaky sleep moustashering."

Lotor and Lance found themselves amongst other early risers as they joined the line to check in for the dance marathon in front of the Starship High. Big glittery posters were pasted to the doors announcing the dance marathon's theme: Intergalactic Glam Rock.

"Morning Mister Coran," said Lotor as they reached the front of the line.

"Good morning Gilmores!" greeted Coran. "You're both looking spiffy. Lance, that is a fine lip of hair you've sprouted."

"Mister Coran, can I lay down on the table while dad signs us in?"

"Not a morning person, eh?"

Lotor shook his head. "I just need to get some coffee in him and he'll be fine. Slav however is going to be crying like small Earth child."

"What else is new?" asked Coran. "Right then, you two go get your physicals, bring your release forms inside, and they'll get you a number."

"Thank you, Mister Coran," said Lotor. He gave Lance a tug. "C'mon Sleepy."

"I'm not a dwarf," whined Lance, allowing himself to be pulled along toward Mister Coran's dance studio.

"Of course not," cooed Lotor. "You're very tall for a young human."

"Hey, wait up!" called Ezor, jogging up behind them.

"Oh wow! Look at you!" exclaimed Lotor.

Ezor gave him a little twirl for show. "Isn't it fabulous?" Ezor was dressed as Madonna complete with cone bra. Her natural head shape served to give the impression of Madonna's trademark high ponytail.

"It is fabulous," agreed Lotor.

"You should see Zethrid's Prince costume! It makes doves cry."

"Where is Zethrid?"

"Oh, we already had our checkups, so she's going to sign us in and scope out a good spot on the floor."

"Oh, it's so cool to be married. You have your own spot-scoper."

"I'm gonna say hi to Hunk," said Lance with a yawn, walking ahead into Mister Coran's dance studio.

"Okay, so I have a problem," said Ezor, taking Lotor's arm and forcing him to stop.

"Ezor it's five thirty in the morning. How can you already have a problem?"

"Because I'm a multi-tasker."

"Hit me."

"Last night, Zethrid and I were throwing rocks at the sentry guards, so of course the subject of children came up."

"Of course."

"All of sudden, out of the blue, Zethrid announces she wants four in four."

"She wants what?"

"Four in four. Four kids in four deca-phoebs."

"Good Lord!" gasped Lotor.

"I know!"

"Well, who's going to birth these children? Her, I'm guessing."

"Me, I think. Or maybe I do only half. But can you picture Zethrid reframing from crushing heads in battle long enough to pop four out? I'm pretty sure this task is assigned to me."

"What did you say?"

"See, here's where the problem comes in."

"What?" pressed Lotor.

"I think I said yes," said Ezor, sheepishly.

"How is that possible?"

"Well, I was completely shocked when she brought it up so I kinda said, 'O...kay,' but I think she took it as, 'Okay!' so apparently now I have to get busy."

"Do you want four in four?" asked Lotor.

"No, I mean you know I want kids, but I thought we'd start with one. Maybe have a second, but only if the first is really quiet."

"Well, dear, you need to tell Zethrid that."

"I can't."

"Ezor, this isn't a simple discussion like choosing the colour of the spoiler on your war ship. You can't just let Zethrid have her way and choose not to look at it when the paint job clashes with the rest of the ship. You have to look at four kids every single day. More so, you have to feed and bathe them."

"I know, but Zethrid and I have never had a real fight. We're still newlyweds. We still sneak out of bed in the morning to brush our teeth, then get back in bed and pretend we just woke up smelling like that."

"You don't have much of a marriage if you can't talk about the important things."

"Ugh. You're right. Do you think I'm crazy for not wanting four in four?"

"Four kids is a lot and four deca-phoebs without a cocktail..."

"Yikes! I hadn't even thought of that."

"Glad to shed some much-needed perspective on the situation."

"We'll take care of this today," said Ezor, giving Lotor a nod and heading towards the school.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance meets up with Hunk and Governess Kim. Lotor runs into complications when getting his physical.

"Do you need help?" asked Lance, watching his best friend Hunk stir a large vat of white goop with what was essentially a canoe paddle.

"No thanks. I've got a good footing now," grunted Hunk. He stood behind the refreshment stand inside Mister Coran's dance studio. He was preparing the food that was to be served to the dancer's during breaks.

"What is that stuff?" asked Lance. His friend usually could make the best tasting food out of the worst looking ingredients, but this stuff here just looked...wrong.

"It's fowl egg salad," said Hunk. "I have to specify fowl egg instead of just saying egg salad so people don't think I mean chicken eggs. It's not chicken eggs."

"Is it parrot?" asked Lance, weakly.

"What? No! No one's eating parrot eggs. Wait... is someone eating parrot eggs?"

"No one's eating parrot...eggs," muttered Lance.

"No, the bird this egg came from is native to Daibazaal. It's a traditional Galran food Governess Kim makes. This stuff is weird though. It is unflavourable. Like, I can douse it with spices and it just absorbs the flavour away. Try it."

Hunk offered Lance a sample spoonful. Lance put it into his mouth, already making a face, expecting it to taste awful, but instead... "Wow. That tastes like literally nothing."

"Told you."

"It's so weird because the texture is in my mouth," said Lance, smacking his tongue, "But I my taste buds detect nothing. It's really messing with my brain." Lance swallowed then grabbed a cup of water to rinse the taste – no, no – rinse the texture out of his mouth.

"It absorbs colour too," said Hunk. "Like I added yellow food colouring, hoping to make it look more like real chicken egg salad and it just stayed white. It's crazy. It's the weirdest alien food I've encountered yet so of course I must master it."

"Good luck," said Lance.

"I'm pairing it with a pumpernickel bread," said Hunk. "Something flavourful to compliment the complete lack of flavour. Oh. And every sandwich comes with a free pamphlet."

"Pretty sure pamphlet's are usually free," said Lance, picking one up off the table. "Surrender your useless existence to the Galra," Lance read aloud. "Or suffer a fiery and shameful death. Vrepit Sa."

"Vrepit sa," Hunk repeated, automatically.

"Governess Kim's flames are getting really good," said Lance, examining the art on the pamphlet.

"Well, she just bought a new color printer. You can do a ton of stuff with it."

"Cool."

Governess Kim herself entered, carrying more bags of food. "Get to scooping, Hunk. The minute air hits the bread, it starts to stale."

"Vrepit sa," said Hunk, giving his governess a salut.

"Vrepit sa, Governess Kim," said Lance.

"Vrepit sa," she answered, giving him a suspicious once over.

"I'm going to stop by later to say hi to Hunk."

"Alright," she answered. "Did you get a pamphlet?"

Lance held up the one in his hand.

"Take one for your father," said Governess Kim, handing Lance a second pamphlet.

At the other end of the studio Lotor was waiting in line for the physicals.

"Next," said the severe looking nurse.

"Just in time," said Lotor as Lance joined him.

"Sorry," said Lance.

"I said next."

"Hi there," greeted Lotor. "We're Lotor and Lance Gilmore."

"Lotor Gilmore?" the nurse repeated, not looking down at her list.

"Yes. L-o-t-"

"You don't look like you've recently suffered a face-altering car crash."

"Uh, excuse me?"

"You're also supposed to have buck teeth, a club foot, and alopecia."

"Oh. I'm sorry, who told you this?"

"My husband."

"Your husband?" repeated Lotor. Suddenly it dawned on him. "Stanley Appleman. Your husband is Stanley Appleman."

"Mmhmm," said Mrs. Appleman, giving Lotor the stink eye.

"Okay, well, it's very nice to meet you. Stanley's said the nicest things about you. In the one tiny short conversation we had, you know, standing way far apart. You know, too far to touch, but close enough to hear all the wonderful things he said about his adorable, sweet-tempered, lovable. . . can we have someone else do our physical?"

The stink eye was then accompanied by gritted teeth.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minutes before the start of the dance, Shiro provides the Gilmore Boys with coffee. Lotor knocks heads with Slav.

How does one decorate a high school gymnasium for an Intergalactic Glam Rock dance marathon? With streamers of course! Lots and lots of streamers. Red, gold, silver, and blue streamers hung from the ceilings. The walls were decorated with metallic stars, planets, and musical notes in the same colours. On the wall opposite the bleachers where spectators were settling in, was a giant board announcing the number of couples remaining on the dance floor: 156 and the hours elapsed: 0. In front of this was the podium where Town Selectking Alfor was addressing the costumed couples on the dance floor.

"Any couple without a number will be disqualified. All couples must be touching at all times. All couples must remain moving at all times. The only time you may stop moving or stop touching is when you hear this horn." Alfor held up an airhorn and gave it a blast. Causing those closest to him to cover their ears. "That sound means you have ten minutes. Ten minutes to get a drink, to eat a snack, take a rest, or whatever it is you can do in ten minutes. And in addition to the ten-minute rest periods, every person participating has been issued a yellow emergency card. In case of emergency, a contestant may hold up the card and leave the floor for ten minutes. If your partner remains on the floor and moving the entire time, then the owner of the yellow card may rejoin them and the contest. First aid is available in Mister Coran's." Alfor gestured to Coran who was sitting beside him as his right hand man. "Please, remember, that if you feel yourself getting lightheaded or having shooting pains or any other stroke-like symptoms, please move off to the side so that your collapse will not get in the way of the other dancers. All right, people, lace your shoes, pin those wigs, touchup that makeup, because we only have five minutes left until we start."

"Well, I believe five minutes is plenty of time for some coffee," said Lotor.

"Yes, coffee, please," agreed Lance, following Lotor off the dance floor.

They walked up to Shiro's coffee table where he had one of those industrial sized coffee machines set up.

"Hey, we're dying," said Lotor, "load us up."

"It isn't ready yet," said Shiro.

"What?"

"Daddy," whined Lance.

"What do you mean it's not ready? It's six in the morning. Nothing says coffee like six in the morning."

"Alfor usually has a flask of Nunvill hidden in his robes," said Shiro. "Maybe he'll let you take a sip of that. That'll wake you up."

"Oh no no no," protested Lance. "I'm not trying that stuff again. I'm pretty sure it kicked me into second puberty."

"In the name of not kicking you into third puberty..." Shiro did a quick look around. Satisfied the coast was clear, he pulled out his personal coffee thermos and handed it to Lotor. "You didn't get this from me."

"Then who do we send our kisses of gratitude to?" swooned Lotor.

"The eternal question asked yet again."

"Thanks Shiro," said Lance, giving the coffee a snife. "Strong."

"Yeah?" Lotor gave it a whiff. "Hello!"

Lance poured some into the cup/lid and handed the thermos to Lotor so he could drink it straight.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Shoot," said Lotor.

"The theme is intergalactic glam rock."

"So far just a statement. Is there a second part?"

"So why are half the couples here, yourself included, dressed as Earth rock stars? Like why are you dressed as, I wanna say..." Shiro took in Lotor's red capri overalls, black boots, black and white patterened dress shirt with the mismatched sleeves, and the blue scarf around his neck. "...Bowie?"

"Ziggy Stardust era Bowie. Wait!" cried Lotor, suddenly remembering the finishing touch to his costume. He pulled an eye patch out of his pocket and put it on. "There."

"Right. Because before it made no sense," said Shiro, sarcastically. "So why are you David Bowie?"

"Darling, didn't you know? Bowie is Altean."

"What?" Shiro turned to Lance. "You believe this."

Lance shrugged. "Dunno. They got that shape-shifting magic. Anything's possible."

"Listen to his music, all the clues are there. I actually knew Bowie back in the day," said Lotor.

"You did not," said Shiro.

"I did and full discloser. We used to date."

"WHAT?" gasped Lance. Clearly this was the first he'd heard of this. "David Bowie was gay?"

Shiro looked at Lotor. "Are you going to break the news to him about Freddie Mercury or should I?"

Lotor shook his head. "Son, what am I always saying about gender?"

"That it's an illusion," muttered Lance. "But then why have you never told me the story of you dating Bowie?"

"Well," said Lotor, a tiny smile creeping across his face. "I was waiting until you were eighteen to tell you the full story."

"Tell me now!" demanded Lance.

"That wouldn't be appropriate."

"So Bowie was an Altean?" asked Shiro, trying to get back on subject.

"Is. He's alive. It's just us Altean's out live you humans by centa-phoebs so the Altean rockstars need to fake their deaths whenever they get tired of performing."

"So you're implying...," began Shiro, looking out at the hundred or so people and aliens dressed like Earth rock and popstars.

"No, they weren't all Alteans," said Lotor, shaking his head. Shiro looked a bit relieved. "Just the best ones. The rest were other kinds of shape-shifting aliens. Forty/fifty-deca-phoebs ago going to Earth to become famous was a bit of a fad amongst the shape-shifting races."

"Was Freddie Altean?" asked Lance.

"Freddie was a god."

"I know, but was he Altean?"

"No, he was literally a god."

Lance had so many questions burning inside of him, but at that moment Alfor got back on the mic. "All right, folks. Everybody on the floor. We're two minutes away. I repeat, everybody on the floor, we are two minutes away."

"Thanks for the coffee," said Lotor as he dragged his son towards the dance floor.

He nearly trampled Slav, but stopped in time.

"Lotor," said Slav, strolling by with his dance partner.

"Slav," responded Lotor. "Good luck to you."

"I don't need luck," answered Slav. "I have a 93% chance of winning in this reality."

"You have 93% chance of me tossing you through a window in this reality," muttered Lotor.

"I hate to bring this up," said Lance.

"What?"

"Slav has very little in his life."

"Uh huh."

"He has no girlfriend, no pet, no car. He lives with his mother, she won't even let him have his own key. He's afraid of literally everything. He spends half of his massive brain-power calculating the possibility of his own death by any random accident. The only thing he does have in his whole lonely pathetic existence is this marathon. If we win, if we take him down, if we take away that last little piece of dignity, then we leave him with nothing.

Lotor smiled. "I wonder if he'll cry."

"Sometimes I worry you lack empathy," said Lance.

"Cry like a small human child..."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance marathon gets started!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyrics are from Boogie Feet by Kesha feat. Eagles of Death Metal

"All right, everybody, grab your partners," said Alfor, "Make sure your numbers are securely fastened, and let the countdown begin!"

The whole crowd counted down. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!"

Zero hour and DJ Narti hit the music.

Ha!  
I wanna go get down  
You wanna come with me?  
My moves are world-renowned  
So good you won't believe  
Oh, oh, oh

The whole dance floor was moving with the couples bursting with excitement over the first dance.

All right  
Some people, they got the big brains  
They make all the computer games

Slav danced with his partner Olia who was using her canine looks to her advantage as she was dressed as werewolf Michael Jackson from the thriller video.

Some people, they look so sexy  
Pop and fizzle like a Pepsi

Blaytz danced with his Galra boyfriend, who's name Lance couldn't remember at the moment.

Some people, they got the money  
Drive around in Lamborghinis

Alfor swung his hips back and forth behind the podium. Coran stood beside him, conducting the dancers with his fingers.

I don't need any of those things  
I just wanna dance like a motherf**ker, yeah!

In the middle of the crowd Lance and Lotor held hands as they jumped up and down, head-banging to the music.

I wanna go get down  
You wanna come with me?  
My moves are world-renowned  
So good, you won't believe  
Oh, oh, oh  
Dance with me, dance with me, please

Blaytz stopped dancing and tapped his boyfriend on the shoulder. "I'm done. Let's go."

"Okay," said his boyfriend. Blaytz threw his arm around him and with that they casually strolled off the dance floor.

I'm gonna shake my butt, yeah, that's a guarantee  
My moves are such good luck, you'll win the lottery  
Oh, oh, oh

"We have a 6.9 percent better chance at winning if we move in clockwise concentric circles around the dance floor starting with the outer edge," Slav explained to Olia as he pulled her along, bumping other couples out of the way and stepping on toes.

Dance with me, dance with me, please  
Dance with me (dance with me, please)

"Excuse us," said Olia as Slav wasn't concerned with being polite. "Can you move?"

"Yep," answered Laika who was dancing with her owner.

Dance with me (dance with me, please)  
Dance with me (dance with me, please)  
Come on, please?

"Woohoo!" cheered Lance as he danced with his dad. "This is awesome! I could go all day."

"And into the night," Lotor reminded, spinning Lance out then pulling him back in again.

"Piece of cake!"

Dance with me (dance with me, please)  
Come on (dance with me, please)

Together the two screamed out the words:

OR ARE YOU SCARED OF THESE BOOGIE FEET?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura arrives at the marathon to come watch... But so does Keith with his boyfriend Rolo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics from Boyfriend by Ashlee Simpson

... Six hours later...

Half the couples have dropped out already. They were weak. Lotor and Lance were less enthused than before, but they were still managing a lazy two-step to the sounds of Ashlee Simpson's "Boyfriend."

Whatcha been doin'? Whatcha been doin?  
Whoa, Whoa,  
Haven't seen ya 'round,

At that moment Slav and Olia's concentric circles brought them orbiting by Lance and Lotor.

"Hey Slav, relax," said Lotor. "Dancing's supposed to be fun."

"You know what will be fun, Lotor? The 72.4% chance I have of jogging around your prostrate body with that shiny temple of silver importance hoisted in the air for all to see. That will be fun."

Lotor turned back to his dance partner. "Do you think serious Slav is more disturbing than non-serious Slav?

"Actually, I think they're both about the same," said Lance with a shrug.

"Come on!" exclaimed Lotor, spotting something across the room.

"What?" asked Lance as Lotor pulled him along the floor.

"Follow me," said Lotor, as if Lance had a choice.

Then it became obvious what Lotor's target was as Allura had just walked into the gym.

"Wow, you guys look great," said Allura with a big smile, she stood on the edge of the designated dance floor area (a.k.a. the basketball court.)

"Hey, you came," grinned Lance.

"Hey, you're standing," replied Allura.

"Hey, we had coffee," said Lotor.

"I can tell."

"Loads of it," said Lance. "We cleaned Shiro out. He had to go buy more grinds."

"So your normal amount?" joked Allura. "So, how's it going?"

"Oh, it's been pretty quiet so far," said Lotor. "However, I do believe –"

"What do you mean I'm not the fiercest warrior in your reality?" Klaizap's voice rang out through the entire gym. "Are you kidding me?"

"Right on time!" cheered Lotor.

"Why would you ever tell me that I'm not the fiercest warrior in your reality?" Klaizap demanded of his date, Hira. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I was trying to be honest!" shouted Hira.

"I don't believe that A, I'm not the fiercest warrior in your reality and B, that you would choose to tell me now at this moment that I'm not the fiercest warrior in your reality!" Klairzap dropped Hira's hands and started marching off the dance floor in a huff.

"Klaizap!" pleaded Hira, following him.

"No!"

"Klaizap!"

"The Klaizap in your reality should throw himself on the sacrificial fire!" With that he kicked open the gym doors and stormed off.

"See," said Lance, turning to Allura. "Fun!"

"And no one's even thrown up yet," exclaimed Lotor.

"Okay, well, uh, I'm just gonna go sit over there," said Allura, pointing to a bleacher spot near her father, "and watch for awhile. Maybe I'll get lucky."

"Great," said Lance, watching Allura walk over to join her dad.

"Well, that's sweet," said Lotor. "Spectator Princess."

"Just keep dancing, you."

At that moment Slav's concentric circles brought him orbiting by Lance and Lotor again. "Your chance of losing increases by approximately 1.245% every hour," taunted Slav. Olia was holding him up and spinning him so he looked like he was doing flips through the air.

"Flip all you want, pal," sassed Lotor. "This ain't the Olympics. It's who's left standing at the end that matters, not how fancy you are getting there."

Lotor glared at Slav until he was out of hearing range then he turned to Lance and put his son's hands on his waist. "C'mon, flip me!"

"No, way," said Lance.

"Come on!" urged Lotor.

"No!" said Lance, firmly. "You flip me."

"What?" cried Lotor.

"Yeah, I'm the lighter one. You flip me!"

Lotor gasped. "You are not lighter than me!" While they argued they were fighting with their hands trying to get the others on their hips. "One cartwheel! Please!"

"No, you flip me!"

"You flip me!"

"You've already flipped," growled Lance. Their hands were locked now so they were basically shoving each other.

Alfor's voice cut into their fight. "Unauthorized persons on the dance floor. Unauthorized persons on the dance floor. Security! Security! Security!"

For a moment there Lotor and Lance thought he was talking about them and froze up, but then they saw Keith with his arm draped across Rolo's shoulders as the two of them walked across the dance floor like they didn't give a damn.

"Well, look who's suddenly interested in dance," commented Lotor, remembering him and Lance needed to keep moving.

Before the dance refs could do anything, Keith and Rolo exited the dance floor and slumped down on the bleachers not too far off from Allura.

"Yeah, he's a regular Tom Bergeron," muttered Lance.

Lance and Keith's eyes met. As Keith held eye contact with Lance, he wrapped his arm around Rolo again. Lance couldn't help the annoyed look he gave Keith, which was just enough encouragement for Keith to pull Rolo by the neck into a kiss. As much as Lance fought the feeling, his heart sank.

Please stop telling all your friends  
I'm getting' sick of them  
Always starin' at me like I took him from you


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the runaround!

It was fourteen hours into the marathon. Forty-five couples remained on the dance floor. Lance had cycled through his normal span of awake hours and was ready for bed again. He was trying to take a nap against his dad's chest as Lotor did the swaying for both of them when he was shaken back awake.

"Slav," Lotor whispered to him.

"Mm?"

Lotor started leading Lance is a more active looking dance as Slav and Olia circled by them. As soon as Slav had passed, Lotor let Lance's head drop back to his shoulder.

"How much longer?" yawned Lance.

"Oh, chin up soldier. We should be getting a break pretty soon."

"I hope so."

"Oh good, there she is," said Zethrid dancing herself and Ezor over to them.

"Zethrid, please," warned Ezor.

"Hey guys," said Lotor.

"Well, hey to you, too. Listen, I wanted to ask you, what do you think of my hair?"

"What?"

"My hair. How's it look to you? Any opinion?"

"It looks good," said Lotor. Zethrid had attempted to slick it back for her Prince costume.

"Zethrid, you're overacting," said Ezor, clearly upset about something.

"You think? How 'bout you, Lotor? You think I'm overreacting?"

"Zethrid, what?" asked Lotor, confused as to what the point of this conversation was.

Before Zethrid could reply, a horn sounded.

"Oh my ancient ones," gasped Lotor.

"What? What?" asked Lance, raising his head up.

"The runaround."

"The runaround?" repeated Lance, looking at Lotor through sleep heavy eyelids. "That does not sound good."

"I'm sorry, baby," Lotor apologized as he pulled Lance over to the outside of the basketball court where the other couples were lining up. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Ladies and Gentlemen," boomed Alfor, "on your marks. . . get set. . . and go!"

Mister Coran fired a pistol into the air. The couples started running along the outside of the basketball court. Lotor needed to drag Lance in order to keep up with the flow.

"Round and round they go, but when the song stops, nobody knows," Alfor howled into a megaphone. "But the last five couples that finish behind the red line are automatically out, so hold onto your partner and move, move, move!"

"You're getting too much pleasure out of this, Alfor," said Coran.

Zethrid pushed through the other couples until her and Ezor were able to run directly behind Lotor and Lance as they did laps around the gym.

"Hey Lotor, just wondering, how's my running?" yelled Zethrid, "Got an opinion on that?"

"Zethrid, what's going on?" asked Lotor.

"Nothing," answered Ezor, "She's mad at me and she's taking it out on you."

"Oh, I'm not mad. I just didn't realize that when I married Ezor, I also married you. I didn't realize I was a polyamorous Kaluvian from the Despod sector. My mistake."

"I need to interject for one second to tell you that I hate you!" groaned Lance, as Lotor continued to drag him along.

"Thanks, honey."

"Quit trying to drag Lotor into this," Ezor scolded.

"Fine, I will," said Zethrid, dropping Ezor's hand and marching off the dance floor.

"Ezor, wait!" Ezor pulled her yellow card out of her cone bra and held it above her head while she ran off after Zethrid. "Yellow cards, right here! I've got 'em for the both of us. We'll be right back!"

"One of you is supposed to stay here," said Alfor through the megaphone, but Ezor was already following Zethrid out into the hall "Hey!"

"I think I'm going to die," wheezed Lance. How many laps had they done so far?

"Me first," said Lotor, pushing himself to keep from slowing down.

"How much longer?"

"I don't know. I just know that every year I block this part out."

"From now on I'm going to remind you of it."

Lotor looked over his shoulder and saw Slav running directly behind him, nipping at his heels.

"Slav, what are you doing?"

"I'm drafting you," answered Slav.

"Well, stop it!"

"You can't tell me where to run! And I conserve 14.7% of my energy by cutting down on wind resistance."

"Slav, I swear to God, don't make me come back there!"

The horn sounded again. Lotor sprinted ahead, pulling Lance along so they could finish by passing the red finish line the refs had set up. As soon as they crossed, the line, they collapsed to the ground, joining all the other couples that had collapsed before them.

"Ten minute break everyone, ten minute break," announced Alfor. "Well run."

From his spot on the ground, Lance started shaking his leg towards Lotor.

"What are you doing?" asked Lotor.

"I'm trying to kick you, but I can't reach."

"I would help you, but I can't move."

"Can I owe you one?" muttered Lance.

"Yeah, no problem," said Lotor, sitting up. "Okay, okay, heart returning to normal. I have to go find Zethrid and Ezor."

"I'll get us a couple of sandwiches," said Lance, pushing himself up to sitting.

"Good idea." Lotor stood and gave Lance a hand up. "This is fun, huh?"

"Uh huh, big fun," mumbled Lance.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith butt heads. Allura not does find it amusing.

Hunk was busy scooping fowl egg salad onto slices of pumpernickel bread at his family food stand when Keith walked into Mister Coran's.

"So, not dancing?" asked Keith, approaching the table.

"Nope," said Hunk, giving Keith a chilly reception.

"Why not? Too cool?"

"Go away, Keith. No one asked for a Dean Winchester wannabe to drop by."

"Hey, I'm just here for the food."

Hunk slapped another piece of bread on the top of his fowl egg salad and handed it to Keith. "Here, enjoy, buh-bye."

"I noticed Lance's not dancing with Allura," said Keith, inspecting the sandwich.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" Hunk grumbled. He did not like that Keith was inquiring about Lance. Hunk felt protective of his best friend. Keith was bad news in a tight red jacket.

"How come?" pressed Keith. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Lance's dancing with his father. Nothing's wrong with him and Allura, and you're blocking my sandwiches from the rest of the room."

"I know. They're erecting a statue to me in the park next week," said Keith, sarcastically.

Governess Kim marched in. She spotted Keith speaking to her ward and scowled.

"Vrepit Sa," she said, stepping up to Keith.

Keith just looked at her. He wasn't that kind of Galra.

Out of nowhere Governess Kim produced a riding whip and smacked Keith on the arm.

"Ow!" Governess Kim raised her riding whip again. "Vrepit sa! Vrepit sa!" sputtered Keith.

She lowered her whip. "Who are you?" demanded Governess Kim.

"Keith." Governess Kim raised her riding whip and Keith quickly added, "Mam."

Governess Kim turned her attention to Hunk. "Scoop more," she said curtly then walked away again just as Lance and Allura walked up to the table.

"The sandwiches are for the dancers," said Lance, spotting the sandwich in Keith's hand.

"I'm dancing on the inside," said Keith.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Lance.

"I live here."

"You have nothing better to do than to sit around inside a gymnasium all day staring at a dance marathon?"

"I don't know," said Keith then he looked at Allura. "Do you have nothing better to do than sit inside a gymnasium all day staring at a dance marathon?"

"I would not direct any sort of comment toward me if I were you," said Allura with a scowl.

"I'm just trying to support my people," said Keith, innocently.

"Good," said Lance. "Then go back to the Blade."

"Ooh. Zing. I've been snapped."

Lance was getting more and more irate. "You think you're bugging me sitting in front of me staring like that?"

"You think you're bugging me dancing in front of me staring like that?" replied Keith, clearly amused.

"I'm not staring at you," snapped Lance.

"Then how do you know I'm staring at you?"

"I am dancing," said Lance, throwing out his arms in frustration. "I cannot control where my glance goes. And the few moments that I can control it, my glance goes to Allura, not to you."

"So you can't control when you look at me, but you have to force yourself to look at her?" Keith looked at Allura. "Sorry, hun. That's cold."

"My former comment still stands," said Allura, crossing her arms.

"Go home," said Lance.

"No, thanks," said Keith.

"Then get out of my way."

"Didn't realize I was in your way," said Keith, stepping to the side and throwing his arm out to show off the now empty spot in front of Hunk's table. "There you go. It's all yours. Ancient Ones help you."

Lance bit his tongue, stepping forward to grab two sandwiches from Hunk who'd been watching this exchange with large eyes.

Rolo walked up to Keith. "Where did you go? I've been sitting out there for twenty minutes."

"The break's only for ten," replied Keith, his attitude cooling to a flat tone.

"It's just a saying," shrugged Rolo.

"I came to get food," explained Keith.

"Good, I'm starved."

"The food is for the dancers," snapped Lance.

"Who are you, Lisa Simpson?" scoffed Rolo. "Get a life." Rolo took the sandwich from Keith.

"Lance's feeling a little territorial today," said Keith, holding eye contact with Lance.

"Whatever," said Rolo, picking at the sandwich. "Yikes, what is this thing?"

Continuing to hold eye contact, Keith wrapped his arm around Rolo and pulled him tight against his side.

Lance responded by doing the same with Allura. Allura ducked back out of the embrace and said, "Lance, get your stuff and let's go."

"Ooh, that was good," said Keith. "Now say 'bow at my feet, peasant.'"

"I got 'em," said Lance, holding up the sandwiches.

"Come on," said Allura, turning to walk out of Mister Coran's.

"See you in there," Keith called to them as they left. When they were gone, he removed his arm from Rolo and said, "I'm gonna get a soda." Then he walked off, leaving Rolo with his weird sandwich.

"I feel like I'm missing something," said Rolo to no one.

Hunk sighed. "I wish I could be that oblivious."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zethrid tells off Lotor for interfering with her marriage.

Inside the gymnasium Lotor walked up to Shiro's coffee stand. "Have you seen Ezor and Zethrid?"

"Nope," answered Shiro without even a hint of interest.

"I've looked everywhere for them."

"Have you tried the insane asylum where everybody in this room is supposed to be?"

"Okay, I need to say something here," said Zethrid, marching up behind Lotor.

Lotor turned around. "Oh, I've been looking all over for you."

"I wish you would just drop this," said Ezor, catching up to her wife.

Zethrid ignored her and said to Lotor, "Contrary to your belief, there are some things in life that you do not have the right to have an opinion on."

"What?" asked Lotor, lost.

"And the rate at which I have kids and the amount of kids I wish to have falls directly under that category."

"Ezor, what did you tell him?" sighed Lotor.

Ezor twisted her foot on the ground, nervously, "Okay, you see, once again, my communication skills - not so good."

"Zethrid, I didn't mean to get involved in any of this," said Lotor, sincerely.

"No? Telling Ezor that she needs to immediately inform me that four in four is crazy?"

Lotor looked at Ezor with a disappointed look. "Oh, Ezor."

"Yeeeeeah, it did come out something like that," admitted Ezor.

"Aw man."

"What's four in four?" asked Shiro.

"Four kids in four deca-phoebs," explained Lotor.

"That is crazy."

"Oh good, yes," said Zethrid, "let's open this up to even more discussion."

"One kid in four deca-phoebs is crazy," said Shiro.

"Hey!" growled Zethrid.

"Sorry," said Shiro in a tone that was anything but sorry. "Go ahead, drop another sucker in this mess."

Lotor gave Shiro an exasperated look. "Okay, raise your hand if you're not helping."

"Does anyone here understand that a woman has a right not to have her personal life debated in a public forum?" cried Zethrid. "I am not Taylor Swift!"

'Altean?' Shiro mouthed to Lotor. Lotor shook his head no.

"Well, I know that," said Ezor.

"I'm sorry, Zethrid," apologized Lotor. "I didn't mean –"

"My child-bearing arrangements are between me and Ezor," said Zethrid, firmly.

"And the Life Givers," added Shiro then he looked at Lotor. "Still not helping?"

"Zethrid, just please calm down," begged Ezor.

"I will calm down. I'll calm down at home."

"But what about the contest?" gasped Ezor.

"To hell with the contest! I'm quitting the contest. That is, if it's okay with Lotor or Shiro or that strange man in the corner who I've never met," said Zethrid pointed directly at Bii-boh-bi. "Excuse me, strange man in the corner? Is it okay if I quit this contest?"

"Bii boh?" said Bii-boh-bi.

Zethrid scowled at him and stormed off anyway.

"I'm so sorry," said Zethrid to Lotor as she backed away. "I got tongue-tied and things just started coming out and I couldn't stop them and. . ."

"Go," urged Lotor.

Ezor spun on her heals. "Zethrid, honey, wait!" She ran after her wife.

"Oh, they're gonna make great parents," said Shiro with an eyeroll. Lotor gave him a playful swat.

Alfor's voice came booming over the sound system, "All dancers back on the dance floor. All dancers back on the dance floor."

"Dad!" Lance came scrambling up to Lotor, holding out the second sandwich.

Lotor took the sandwich with one hand and grabbed Lance's hand with the other. "Let's go!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the last hour of the marathon, Lotor has a wardrobe malfunction. He enlists Allura to help keep a sleepy Lance on his feet.

According to the billboard - Hours elapsed: 23, Couples remaining: 6

Alfor was deep into his second flask of nunvil. He struggling to keep from passing out on his podium while hugging his megaphone. "And then Zarkon would say, 'form Voltron' and we'd all fly in formation then the transformation would happen and sixty ticks later BOOM giant robot. And everyone would laugh and gasp."

"I know, Alfor," sighed Coran. "It's a wonderful dream."

"Except screw Zarkon!" grunted Alfor. "Two-faced quiznaker throws our plans of unity out the window and goes on a conquering tirade."

"Yes, it's terrible, sir," said Coran, giving the automatic response he'd said a thousand times to this same rant.

"I'll form a new Voltron team without him," grumbled Alfor, "then when those robot lions are done, I'll show him. I could throw a rock in any direction and find a better Paladin than Zarkon. I'll take him," said Alfor, pointing at Shiro. "And I dunno... him." He pointed at Lance who looked like a zombie, swaying back and forth with his dad. "And the one with the resting b---- face over there" Alfor pointed at Keith who was reading a book on the bleachers while Rolo slept beside him.

"Uh Keith?" questioned Coran. "He's a bit of a discipline case."

"Zarkon's face is a bit of a discipline case," Alfor shot back. "I'll discipline case his bottom."

"I'm sure you will, sir," sighed Coran.

Alfor closed his eyes and lay his head back down on his arms. "I'mma blow up his planet."

"Uh, I really don't think that's a good idea, sir," said Coran, nervously.

"Me and those Paladins - plus like a girl for diversity - we'll pilot the robot Lions and I'll fly the red one 'cause it's the fastest and then we'll transform into Voltron and I'll form the head!"

Confused Coran said, "I thought you said before that the Black Lion forms the head."

"Screw it! I'm the Select-King, I'll form the head if I want to!" snapped Alfor, with his eyes still closed.

"Sure you will, sir," sighed Coran, wishing he'd never bothered to argue with Alfor while drunk.

Alfor was quiet for once then he started to snore. Coran took a look around to make sure no one was watching then carefully placed his hands on Alfor's megaphone and began slipping the thing out of Alfor's hands.

Alfor startled back awake. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Well, I was just. . .," sputtered Coran.

"You tried to take my megaphone."

"No, I just didn't want you to drop it," lied Coran.

"No one touches my megaphone. No one."

"What do you mean –"

"Guards!"

"- No one touches your megaphone?"

"Guards!"

Coran gave Alfor's megaphone a poke. "How's that?" He poked it again. "Take that!"

"Hey! Hey!" shouted Alfor.

Meanwhile, on the dance floor, Trigel and Grygan swayed back and forth, leaning against each other for support. Grygan couldn't stay awake any longer. Finally he closed his eyes collapsed to the floor. Trigal grabbed him by the legs and dragged him off the dance floor.

Lance and Lotor failed to notice any of this even though it happened directly beside them. They were leaning on each other's shoulders, eyes closed, swaying just enough to count as moving so they wouldn't get eliminated.

"Tell me a joke," mumbled Lotor, needing something to help him stay away.

"Knock knock," said Lance.

Lotor began giggling. "That was a good one."

"Ha ha, yeah," agreed Lance.

"Ow!" cried Lotor, suddenly leaning down.

"You okay?" asked Lance with as much concern he could muster.

"Oh no!" said Lotor, bending down to the floor.

"What?"

"My heel broke," said Lotor, popping back up holding up his boot. The heel was bent and only holding on along the edge of the sole.

"What?" asked Lance, confused.

"My heel just broke off. Damn, these are brand new boots, too."

"They were made in the 1970s," said Lance.

"Well, I just bought them Tuesday."

"I told you not to wear vintage boots."

"But the lady at the store said that they hadn't been worn a lot."

"Yeah, but not a lot in forty years is still a lot."

"I gotta fix 'em...," despaired Lotor then he gasped, pulling a yellow card out of his overall pockets. "I'll use my emergency card. I'll be right back."

Lotor tried to leave, but Lance held tight to his hand and yanked him back. "No, stop. If you leave, there's no way I'll be able to stand up on my own."

"Ten minutes."

Lance dropped his head onto his dad's shoulder and closed his eyes. "Nighty-night."

"Fine, hold on." Lotor looked over to the bleachers and waved at Allura. "Allura, come here! Allura!"

"What are you doing?" mumbled Lance.

Allura walked up to them. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's great. Stand here," instructed Lotor. He slipped out from under Lance's arm and maneuverer Allura into his former position.

"Whoa," said Allura as the mostly asleep Lance enveloped Allura in his arms and nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Look, I'll be back in ten minutes. Do not let him stop or lay down, do you understand me?"

"But I –"

"I need you, Allura," stressed Lotor. "The team needs you."

"What team?"

Lotor blinked. "Pick a team - it needs you."

"Voltron?" said Allura, looking at her father who was snoozing standing up while cradling a megaphone.

"That works. I'll be right back," said Lotor, walking away, boot under one arm, yellow card held up with the other.

Sleepily Lance muttered, "When I say Vol, you say Tron. Vol..."

"Tron?" answered Allura.

"Yaaaaay, you did it," yawned Lance.

"It wasn't difficult. Why would that be difficult?"

"Idunno," mumbled Lance, eyes still shut. "I'm really sorry about this."

"Yeah, uh, it's okay."

"Are you sure?" asked Lance nuzzling her neck.

Allura looked down at him fondly. "Yeah. Actually, it's not bad at all."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor and Shiro talk about their hopes for the future an whether that includes children if they meet the right person.

Over near Shiro's coffee stand, Trigel tried to pour coffee into Grygan's sleeping mouth.

"I think that one's a goner, Mame," said Shiro.

Lotor limp-marched over, holding his broken boot. "Hey, my boot broke."

"What?" asked Shiro.

"I need you to fix it."

"Do I look like a cobbler to you?"

Lotor didn't understand why Shiro was resisting. If Lotor asks for something, Shiro does it. That's how their relationship worked. "If I say yes, will you fix my boot?"

"Let me see it," sighed Shiro, taking the boot and inspecting the loose heal.

"I only have ten minutes - please."

"I think I have some glue back at the diner."

"Glue, yes - we love glue!" cheered Lotor.

"I wouldn't say that too loudly if I were you."

"Thank you."

"C'mon," said Shiro.

Lotor hobbled after Shiro until they got outside of the school. There he ran into Ezor, who had been heading back inside to look for Lotor.

"Hey. Are you guys out?" Ezor asked with concern.

"No, my shoe broke. Shiro's fixing it," said Lotor as he watched Shiro go on without him.

"Oh, good. Listen, I just feel terrible about what happened."

"I know. How's Zethrid?"

"Oh, she's fine. We went home, and she calmed down, and we talked. She totally understands and she's open to anything I want."

"That's great," said Lotor, relieved.

"Now, tell me what I want."

"No way."

"But I'm not sure."

"Then flip a coin 'cause I am staying so far out of this."

"You're my best friend."

"Yes, I am, and I can only remain your best friend as long as Zethrid doesn't kill me.

"Lotor . .."

"Ezor, she's a produce woman. They'll never find the body, but the squash will have a purple hue that year."

"Okay, fair enough."

"Hey," said Lotor, placing his hand on Ezor's shoulder, "take your time. That's it. That's all I have to say.

"Thank you," said Ezor. "Well, I'm going home to figure out what I want. Good luck. Call me tomorrow?"

"I will."

Lotor caught up to Shiro in the diner.

"Got it," said Shiro as he came out from the back, holding the glue.

"Ah, good. Sorry, I was just checking on Ezor," said Lotor, taking a seat at a table.

"So, how's that situation going?" asked Shiro, he sat at the same table and started working on the boot.

"Oh, it'll be okay."

"Good. Uh, listen, uh," said Shiro, oddly nervous. "I didn't really mean all that stuff I said earlier."

"What stuff?"

"Uh, the kid stuff, you know."

"Oh, it's no big deal."

"Yeah, I know, I just," began Shiro, looking uncomfortable. "I'm not really as anti-kid as I might have come off."

Lotor raised an eyebrow. "Drop another sucker in –"

"Okay, yes. I don't always have the patience for 'em. They tend to be a little squishy, and that freaks me out a little."

"You don't have to want kids, Shiro," said Lotor, reassuringly. "Or like kids. It's not for everybody."

"I know, but. . . although I'm quite happy going an entire day without having to deal with somebody else's bodily functions, if I ever happen to meet the right person. . . Well, it would be a discussion."

"A discussion?"

"Yes. Probably a short discussion, but still...," Shiro handed the open glue to Lotor. "Here, hold this." He pushed the heel into place, holding it tightly there as it dried. "So what about you - you ever think about adopting another kid?"

"Oh, I don't know how much fun it would be without blowing off my supposed Galran leadership destiny to adopt a human child and ultimately devastate my parents. . . but sure, if I ever happen to meet the right person, another kid might be nice."

Lotor and Shiro smiled at each other and for a moment they held each other's gaze, but then Shiro cleared his throat and looked down at the boot.

"Your boot'll be ready in a minute."

"Thank you," said Lotor, clearing his own throat and looking away.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk gets a surprise visit from Romelle.

Over at Mister Coran's dance studio, things had slowed down. Hunk sat out on the steps, looking up at the stars. He sighed and walked inside.

"One sandwich please," Hunk turned around to see Romelle walking in through the door behind him.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" asked Hunk.

"Uh, well, you mentioned this thing last time we talked and it sounded very human-y so I figured I would come by and check it out."

"What do you think?" asked Hunk, leaning against his food table.

"Uh, I think it's strange," said Romelle.

"Yeah, well. . ."

"Anyhow, I hadn't seen you in awhile, and I thought I'd come down and maybe we could figure something out on this band issue."

Hunk nodded. Right, Romelle only wanted to talk about finding a practice space for their band. "Sure, we could do that."

"Plus, I missed you," said Romelle, softly.

"You did?" asked Hunk, stunned. "You missed me?"

"Well, yeah. Did you miss me?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. I definitely, definitely missed you."

"Glad and relieved to hear it," said Romelle, smiling at Hunk.

Governess Kim walked over to them, her gaze locked on Romelle, a stern look on her face. She opened her mouth, but Romelle spoke first, "Vrepit sa."

"Vrepit sa," answered Governess Kim. "Who are you, what do you want?"

"Uh," began Hunk.

"Do you know this Altean?" asked Governess Kim.

"Well –"

"Uh, no, actually," said Romelle, cutting in. "I just heard a bunch of people talking outside about the sandwiches and I thought that I would come in and maybe try one. I'm sorry, may I?"

Governess Kim picked up a sandwich and handed it to Romelle.

"Thank you," said Romelle. Gingerly she took a bite and began to chew. "That's delicious." And the Oscar goes to...

"Really?" questioned Hunk.

"Absolutely," nodded Romelle, still chewing her first bite. "May I have another one for later please? I like how it sucks all the moisture from my mouth."

"Yes, that's fine. Take another one," said Governess Kim, handing Romelle a second sandwich.

"Thank you," said Romelle then she finally managed to swallow. "You know, my parents would love these sandwiches. I wish I could bring them by but unfortunately they're in a private Ways of the Galra Study right now."

"Ways of the Galra Study?"

"Oh, you know the history of their conquests, their customs, battle philosophy, the art of war... Say, how long are you serving?" asked Romelle.

"Why?" asked Governess Kim, suspicious.

"Well, I thought that if they got out in time I could bring 'em on over."

"Well, the bread is only good for another twenty doboshes, after that there's no point. You chip a tooth."

"Okay," said Romelled, turning to look at Hunk. "So if I can get my parents back here in twenty doboshes, then you'll still be serving, but in thirty you're done?"

"That's right," agreed Governess Kim.

"Great. So if for some reason I'm not back here in twenty doboshes, that means that I'm gonna be over there, on the church steps, waiting for my parents to get out so that I can tell them about the great sandwiches that they missed. Okay? Okay, great. Thanks a lot and I hope to see you soon. Vrepit sa," said Romelle, turning and walking out.

"Vrepit sa," Governess Kim called out then she turned to Hunk and with a rare smile said, "I hope she comes back. She seemed hungry."

Hunk was trying his best not to break out in a huge grin. On the inside he was already plotting his excuse that would get him out of clean-up so he could sneak off and meet Romelle on the steps of the church in half a varga's time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unable to ignore the attraction between Keith and Lance anymore, Allura makes a scene.

Bii-Boh-Bi, wearing his referee shirt, traveled around the dance floor inspecting the last few dancing. The bleachers were nearly empty with most of the spectators abandoning the end of the competition in favour of sleeping at home in their beds. Keith was one of the few remaining, getting near the end of the book he'd been reading. Rolo was awake again, now just laying beside Keith on the bleachers, staring out into space.

"He's still there," grumbled Lance, giving the Keith the stink eye.

"What?" asked Allura. She'd been enjoying slow dancing with Lance and had started to daydream.

"Keith," spat Lance. "He's still there. I can't believe he's still there."

"Just ignore him," suggested Allura, annoyance creeping into her voice.

"Yeah. You know, this is a dance marathon. You're not supposed to come and sit and watch, you're supposed to dance," Lance ranted. He was sleep deprived. He'd been awake for 24 hours straight. He couldn't hide his annoyance anymore. "He's just trying to bug me, sitting there right in front of me, staring. Jerk."

Rolo sat up and looked at Keith. "I'm bored."

"Okay," said Keith, dropping his book and with the same fluid motion leaning in to kiss Rolo.

"There they go again!" cried Lance, watching them make out. "God, I swear, why can't they just get a room? Or forget a room - get a park bench, or a doorway, or even a strategically placed telephone pole would probably suffice. I mean, boys like Rolo - what is it with them? Don't they see what they look like? I know they have mirrors."

"Hey," said Keith, breaking off the kiss so he could glare at Lance. "You talking about me?"

"No."

"I heard you mention Rolo." Beside him, Rolo was wiping a bit of spit from underneath his lip.

"Rolo isn't you," Lance shot back.

"Rolo concerns me," snapped Keith.

"Rolo concerns me, too - and all men, for that matter." Lance stopped himself just short of making a comment about f**kboys.

"You got a problem here?" asked Keith.

"Nope. Just a little sick of seeing the two of you sitting there. If you're not gonna participate then why don't you just leave?"

"That works for me," said Rolo, going to stand up. "Let's go."

"No," said Keith, grabbing Rolo's hand and pulling him back down to sit, yet never breaking eye contact Lance.

"Why not?" demanded Lance.

"Because I'm not ready to go."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really," said Keith, leaning back and resting his elbows on the bench behind him all cocky. "I'm gonna sit here as long as I like, and I'm gonna do whatever I like, and if you don't like it then just ignore me and pay attention to your girlfriend."

"Sorry, he cannot," snapped Allura, stepping back and throwing off Lance's arms. "I am not his girlfriend anymore."

"What?" gasped Lance, his eyes all big and shiny.

"You know, I tried to ignore this," said Allura through gritted teeth. "I really did, but I do not know what the quiznak I was thinking."

"Allura, what are you talking about?"

"You don't wanna be with me, Lance!" shouted Allura.

"Yes, I do."

"Oh, please! You have been into him since he got to town," bellowed Allura, gesturing to Keith. "And I have spent weeks - months, actually - trying to convince myself that it was not true, that everything was fine between us. But now I know that I was a fool. You are into him and he is into you. And Rolo -" Rolo sat up, hearing his name. "- by the way, you should be listening to this because it is so quiznaking obvious!"

"What's obvious?" asked Lance, his eyes filling with tears. "What did I do?"

"Everyone can see, Lance! Everyone!" shouted Allura, throwing her arms out. "And I am tired, but I am over it, so go ahead, go. Be together. There is nothing standing in your way now, because I am out." Allura turned and stalked out of the gym.

Keith's eyes were wide, starring at Lance, but Lance didn't look at him. He just stood there, frozen with shock.

"But I'm not even gay..." Lance muttered to himself.

"There's a 99.9% chance that in this reality you're bisexual," said Slav as he danced by with Olia. "With a margin of error of 0.1%"

Lance just stood there, feeling crushed. Roused from his sleep by the yelling, Alfor woke up and noticed Lance standing on the dance floor alone.

"I don't see a yellow card." He fumbled for his megaphone and said into it, "I don't see a yellow card. Excuse me, young man. . .whose name I don't remember right now. . ."

Lance walked off the dance floor.

"Ugh, no one listens to me," moaned Alfor.

"I know, honey," sighed Coran.


	18. Chapter 18

Lance sat on the bridge that crossed Starship Hollow's lake. He looked down into the water, wiping the tears from his eyes. Soft footsteps approached.

"She's a jerk," said Keith, stopping a few feet away. "Yelling at you like that, breaking up in front of everybody. . .the girl's a total jerk."

"No, she's not," said Lance, quietly. "She's right. Everything she said. All those things about you and me, all those things about me lying to her, and messing with her head. She was right."

Keith was silent.

Lance finally looked at him. "Well, wasn't she?"

Keith had a hard time forming words. This bridge brought him back to the first time he was here with Lance. The town had held another dumb event where people bid on picnic baskets in order to win a picnic date with the person who packed the lunch. Keith had to beg, borrow, and steal, but he got enough money together to outbid Allura on Lance's basket. All so he could spend a few uninterrupted hours alone with Lance.

When Lance had gotten up to leave, Keith had found he'd dropped the bracelet Allura had made him on the bridge. He'd pocketed it, but when he found out weeks later how upset Lance had been over losing it, he'd slipped the bracelet into Lance's room. It was Lotor who had figured out Keith had taken it. Lotor accused him of trying to sabotage Lance's relationship with Allura. What he didn't tell Lotor was he'd never known Allura had made the bracelet. He'd only pocketed the bracelet because he wanted something of Lance's to hold on to...

"Fine, he was right about me, then," snapped Lance, assuming Keith's silence meant he didn't agree with Lance. "Now go away." Lance looked back at the water, pouting.

"He was right. . ." said Keith, finding his voice. "About all of it."

Lance felt a little stunned. It was just... out there now. "So, what now?"

"You're definitely broken up with Allura?"

"Yeah, I'm definitely broken up with Allura."

"Okay," said Keith quietly. "I have to go take care of something then."

Keith turned and walked away, taking a big bracing breath. Lance liked him... Lance was single... This was huge and he wished he could kiss Lance, but it wouldn't be right. Not when Lance was crying over Allura. Not when Keith needed to go break up with Rolo first. But this was okay because this was a beginning. Keith thought back to the first kiss he'd shared with Lance...

[Flashback] Keith had left town -been run out of town - and gone to spend time with the Blade of Marmora, but he just couldn't stay away. He came back and asked for Shiro to give him a second chance, promising to do better. Shiro had agreed to take him back in so Keith left to go find Lance at Ezor and Zethrid's wedding at the Warship Inn.

Keith remembered Lance's stunned look when he found Keith waiting by the lake for him. "What are you doing here?

"Hello to you too," said Keith.

"Is everything okay?"

"You look nice," said Keith, looking down at Lance's suit he'd worn to be Ezor's bridesmaid.

"Thank you. What are you doing here?" Lance repeated.

"I moved back."

"What?" asked Lance, stunned.

Keith shrugged. "I moved back."

"But...wh – why?" stuttered Lance.

"Just... wanted to," said Keith, wishing he could say out loud, 'to be with you.' Somehow though his eyes must've conveyed this because Lance literally lunged at Keith, slipping his arms around his back and kissing him.

Keith was stunned for a half a second then he was kissing Lance right back. Keith went to put his own arms around Lance, but Lance was already pulling away again.

"Oh my quiznak," said Lance, turning away from Keith. "Oh my quiznak..."

"Lance..." began Keith.

"Don't say a word," begged Lance, spinning back on Keith.

"Okay," said Keith. Of course, Lance had a girlfriend. They shouldn't have been kissing.

"I have to go," said Lance, already running off. "Oh, welcome home!" Lance called over his shoulder as he jogged away to join the wedding ceremony.

Home... That word had stuck with Keith just like the taste of Lance's kiss. Maybe for once in his life he'd feel at home. But then...

Nothing. Lance didn't immediately dump Allura and start dating Keith like he'd expected. In fact Lance had left town for the summer – sent to the capital for special Garrison training – the reason didn't matter. Keith had come back to town for Lance and Lance had immediately left. This hurt Keith in ways he hadn't known he could feel hurt. Keith put back up his 'don't give a quiznak' wall. He started seeing Rolo to pass the time. When Lance got home in time for school to start, he went right back to seeing Allura. But that was then...[End Flashback]

... Keith wasn't proud of the resentment he'd be harbouring. Meeting Lance had made him want to be a better person, but the disappointment of that not winning Lance over had sent him spiralling back into the aspects of his personality that he hated. It had been wrong to be so antagonistic. He shouldn't have needed the promise of a relationship with Lance to motivate him to do better.

But now he would have both. He'd have Lance and we would try harder than he ever had to deserve him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boot fixed, Lotor returns to the marathon to find Lance no longer on the floor.

Only two couples remained on the dance floor, Slav and his partner Olia, and Swirn and her partner Blumfump. Bii-Boh-Bi, Alfor, and Mister Coran were all snoozing. Swirn yawned, unable to stay awake any longer. She went limp in her partner's arms, falling into a deep sleep. Blumfump panicked, shaking her, trying to wake her, but her weight on him made them both slide to the floor.

Slav gasped and pointed at the other couple on the floor. "They're out! They're out!" He left Olia and ran up to the podium where Coran was sleeping. He pounded on the side to wake him up. "We won! We won!"

"Wha...?" asked Coran, sleepily then he noticed Swirn and Blumfump on the ground and woke up fully. "Oh, oh, oh. Alfor, wake up! It's over. Alfor, blow the horn."

Alfor was asleep on the floor of the stage. "... form blazing sword," he muttered in his sleep.

"Alfor, the horn," Coran shouted. "Oh, for quiznak's sake!" Coran picked up Alfor's airhorn and let it rip. "Okay, Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner!"

Lotor rushed up to the podium, having just arrived back in time to hear the winner announcement. "Wait, what are you doing? I'm here. I'm standing. I used my yellow card!" Lotor pulled out his card and waved it in the air.

"I win, I win! I win, I win, I win, I win!" cheered Slav. He dropped to the floor and began spinning around on his side.

"You didn't win!" yelled Lotor. "I'm still here! Coran, where's Lance?"

"Oh, he ran off the floor a little while ago."

"What?" gasped Lotor. "No!"

"Yes!" said Slav, pointing to his feet. "There was a 17.9% chance you would break your shoe and a 96.1% chance your son would quit the competition without you present!"

Coran handed Slav the giant trophy and announced into the microphone, "For the fifth year in a row, ladies and gentlemen, the marathon winners are Olia Delain and Slav Gleason!"

Lotor looked and saw Lance re-entering the gymnasium. "Lance, what happened?" demanded Lotor, marching up to him. "Where did you go?" Then Lotor noticed Lance's tear stained face and all concerns about losing the dance marathon evaporated.

"Oh, Lance, honey! Oh!" said Lotor, pulling his son into his arms.

The theme from Rocky began to play as Slav began his victory lap, hoisting the trophy up about his head. Slav ran circles around the gym floor while Lotor stood in the middle, holding his son and stroking his hair.

THE END


End file.
